Damage
by unbearablybleak
Summary: Mai reveals to Zuko the scars she's been hiding. One shot. Maiko. TW: Self Harm


**A/N: I really think it's sad when people see Mai as emotionless. She immediately struck me as someone suffering from depression and deep feelings of inadequacy. Here's a one-shot that shows the side of Mai that is emotional, that's human, that breaks. She's not robotic with Zuko, she's open with him. And he loves her regardless of her struggles.**

 **TW: Self Harm.**

They'd been like this before, sharing touches on bare skin in the dead of night, but this time a pool of anxiety sits in the pit of her stomach. Mai wanted to turn the lights off or hide under the covers as she usually did, embarrassed of her own body, embarrassed of what Zuko might think when he saw the scars no one else had seen before. But he wanted to see her, to take every inch of her body in, unhindered by the thick robes she wore or with only the moonlight reflecting off her pale skin. He had asked quietly, kissing her fingers in between words.

"Mai, do you think we can keep the candles lit this time?"

She had known what he was asking, but feigned ignorance to avoid the situation. Her words stuck in her throat as she replied, "But why? We don't need to see anything…"

Zuko sighed, his fingers inching towards the tie of her nightgown, itching to remove the fabric keeping them separated. "But I want to see you, you're so beautiful."

Her face scrunched for a moment before she pushed his hand away, sitting up to create more distance. He noticed, frowning and looking down with shame that he had upset her, worried he had crossed too many lines. "You're seeing me right now, isn't that enough?"

"But Mai, we're—I mean, yes, but—Agni, Mai, I just want…"

"You want to see me naked, typical man," she had sneered back.

Then his eyes flashed with hurt at the accusation there was something wrong with his desire. A tinge of guilt hit her hard, enough of a push to send her back against his chest. She had been working on this—on telling Zuko how she truly felt as opposed to shutting herself off. So she forced herself to explain. "I'm sorry. It's just—I'm not very pretty, actually. I don't know why you think I am, but if you really see I'm not—." The pitch of her voice had begun to rise, the horrid sensation built up underneath her skin until Zuko stopped her words with a gentle kiss.

"Mai, how could I ever find you unattractive? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. If you're not comfortable, that's okay, but don't hide from me because you think you're ugly."

She had smiled a bit at his words, leading them to this moment.

Nothing in her would ever hesitate to be intimate with Zuko—she trusted him more than anyone else. She loved him. But she didn't love herself. And she never wanted him to find out about the ragged lines crisscrossing her thighs.

Marks she had drawn on her own skin with a blade when the world around her felt to be too much. Marks she knew must symbolize how weak she was. They were hideous scars, some still fresh and angry on her skin while others have faded into small pink lines.

Maybe, she hoped, maybe he wouldn't see them. Maybe she could lie and say she fell or something.

With a deep breath, Mai stood in front of Zuko, closing her eyes to avoid seeing the disgust she was sure would cross his face in only a moment. He started to stop her, noting her discomfort and assuring her it was alright—but she insisted. Hiding any longer won't do them any well. It'd be a lie, after all.

The robe didn't make a sound as it hit the floor, but her breath was shaky and loud. She had to stop herself from covering up—not her breasts or anything most girls would be embarrassed to have on display, but to cover her thighs, to shed herself from what he might think.

She was overwhelmed, the panic began to bubble up, stinging her eyes and causing her to let out a small whimper.

His gaze was hot on her skin. Mai swore she can feel it the moment he locked in on the evidence of her self-harm, the air just _changed_. She didn't dare open her eyes as she heard him stand, certain he was going to leave. Until his hands cupped her cheeks He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together and giving a soft command for her to look at him.

She complied reluctantly, and was surprised to see tears welling in his own eyes.

"Mai, you hurt yourself?" he whispered, his voice thick with concern. It pained him to think of the mindset she must've been in to do such a thing because he _understood_ that pain. He knew what it was like to feel so utterly hopeless, and somehow, he had never noticed Mai has been lost in that same place.

Her heart thumped loudly against her chest, her mind screamed at her to stay silent, but her tongue betrayed her. "I was just trying to make it stop, I'm sorry. I understand if you don't want me anymore."

"I should've noticed you were feeling this way," he started, pulling her into himself and back into the bed so that he could cradle her. She felt like a child in his embrace, but didn't fight it. She was stunned into compliance by his actions of comfort as opposed to disappointment. "It could never make me not want you, Mai. Why would it do that?"

"Because—I'm pathetic. You've been through more and you've never—"

"I handled it in a different way," he cut her off, "That's true, but it doesn't mean it was better. It was more pathetic if you ask me. Treating everyone around me as if they were as low as I felt inside…"

Her brow furrowed as she fell into thought, weighing his words. He had been awful for a while, angry and rude—lashing out at others. She supposed she was doing the same, but internalizing it. She still was doing it, wasn't she? Attacking herself as some sort of coping skill. And Zuko wasn't going to judge her for it.

The relief rushed through her so intensely that a soft cry broke through. She had never figured out what it was about Zuko that broke her steely exterior, but it was difficult to remain so cold when in his presence, and his alone. So she cried. She cried in his arms and thanked him until the words don't feel real anymore.

He stroked her hair; he promised her it would be okay. He kissed her scars, making her promise she would come to him the next time she felt the urge. He didn't make her explain it all in that moment, which she was grateful. The night had been emotionally exhausting enough.

"I'm glad I showed you," she noted later, her face finally dried. And she was. It had terrified her, but she felt a special closeness now. A bond they wouldn't be able to go back on, and one she wouldn't have with anyone else. Her shame was easing up, making her feel lighter. There was still to be struggle, she knew, she wasn't naïve. But it wasn't as threatening knowing there was a person to turn to.

"I just want you to be happy," he replied, handing her the robe she had discarded. Mai tilted her head for a moment, thinking before throwing it back down.

"No, I think we should get back to that _thing_ we were going to do." A sly smile crept up on her face. But this time, she let him keep the candles lit.


End file.
